


The Last Word

by tcs1121



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-13
Updated: 2008-11-13
Packaged: 2020-08-18 18:57:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20196481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcs1121/pseuds/tcs1121
Summary: Summary: Sam always had to have the last word.





	The Last Word

**Author's Note:**

> **_SPN Fanfiction: The Last Word (gen, PG-13)_**  
**Title: The Last Word**  
**Author: **  
**Characters: Sam and Dean**  
**Rating: PG 13—language, Hurt!Sam**  
**Disclaimer: These characters were created by Eric Kripke and do not belong to me. No money exchanges hands. All for fun.**
> 
> Original Post date: November 13, 2008

**~~*~~*~~*~~**

**The Last Word**

**~~*~~*~~*~~**

The sun has just set as the Impala sped along the dusky ribbon of road. By the sounds coming from the passenger side, Dean knew it was getting rough, but everything was going to be fine. He’d get Sam back to the motel, stitch him up and feed him chicken soup. With noodles. A couple of phony prescriptions, or whatever, and Sam would be all right. No sweat.

Dean looked to his right and pushed a little harder on the bloody towel bunched up against his brother’s chest. 

On second thought, a hospital trip was a better idea. Take Sam in for a quick ER visit. Patch him up, and in a day or two, back on the road again. No sweat. Piece of cake.

“You’re hanging in there, right?” Dean’s one hand gripped the steering wheel while the other covered the holes in Sam’s chest. “Come on, Sammy. Cut me some slack here, man. Open your eyes.”

The blood dripping off of Sam’s lips made little red spatters on Dean’s fingers. Under his palm, Dean felt the short hitches of breath Sam was taking. Sam opened his eyes. 

“Okay, good.” Dean’s head bobbed right to left, looking at the road, over to Sam and back to the road. “That’s good. Keep ‘em open now.” Small rasping sounds bubbled from his Sam’s throat every two to three seconds. 

Sam had acted as bait to lure the creature into Dean’s sight. 

Dean caught it in the crosshairs of his crossbow and rocketed three silver-tipped arrows into the doomed _Piasa Bird_, but not before its razor-sharp talons had cut all the way into Sam’s chest. 

The long claws had likely punctured Sam’s left lung. To make matters worse, there was a sick sucking sound when Sam breathed, meaning that air had gotten into his chest. Dean was determined to keep any more air from getting in, or blood from spilling out, so he pressed harder. Sam’s eyes rolled up, but he blinked them open again.

“Stay with me, dude. We’ve got fifteen minutes to the emergency room and a chest tube. That’ll clear up your breathing in no time.” 

In the waning light, Dean saw that Sam’s clothes were drenched with sweat and blood, and his color was going gray. 

“Hold on, Sammy.” He floored the accelerator. “We’ll make it in eight.” 

The Impala roared and shot off into the twilight. When the Chevy bounded around a curve and the right front tire hit a pothole, the car jumped up and down before smoothing out on the straightaway. Sam hissed and jerked his head up. He stretched his neck out, opened his mouth wide and pulled for breath like a high diver coming up for air. Dean saw the muscles in his neck and shoulders strain to expand his chest. 

“Shit, Sammy, I’m sorry, man. Sorry. Try and relax.” 

Sam’s body shook with the strain of breathing. After a long minute, he lay back against the seat, stared at Dean and slowly shook his head. 

“Yes we are,” Dean growled. “We’re going to make it.” 

Sam took a shallow breath, and then closed his eyes. 

“Christ, Sam. Give me eight minutes. Eight fucking minutes!”

Police sirens wailed in the distance, steadily getting louder. The familiar blue and red spun in Dean’s rear view mirror, but before he could out-maneuver them, another set of flashers appeared in front of him. “Jesus Christ. Not now.” He stood on the brake and skidded to a stop.

“Fuck. Sammy?” He shook his brother gently, and Sam’s eyes slid open. “Sam? It’ll be closer to ten minutes, okay?” Dean forced a grin, tucked the towel tight and placed Sam’s hands over it. 

Dean flung the door open and jumped out. Raising his arms, he shouted at the cops, “I got no time for this! My brother’s hurt! He was attacked by some kind of animal.” Not exactly a lie. One of the officers approached the big black car, took a look at Sam, and hit the radio on his collar. Dean stalked over to him, “Let’s just fucking get him to the hospital. Give me an escort. It’s like ten, fifteen, minutes away, right?”

“No, son. It’s more like forty-five, even at the speed you were going. Looking at the way your brother’s bleeding and not breathing good, it don’t look like he’s gonna make it that long.”

“What? Of course he’ll make it.” Dean headed back to the driver’s side. The cop grabbed Dean’s arm and whispered fiercely, “No, he ain’t, but he just might make it long enough for the EMTs to get here. They’re on their way. Go in, set with him and keep him calm.” He released Dean’s arm. “Keep that boy breathing.”

Keep him breathing? Was that really what the cop said? The Illinois State Police vehicles began diverting what little traffic there was around them. 

Dean sat back in the car. Wet, shallow breathing and frightened eyes met him. “Hey, Sam. We’ve got a slight change in plans. The cops told us to wait here.”

Sam squinted and cocked his head to the left.

“Because I...uh...underestimated the time to get to the ER.” Dean shrugged. “Cops are calling for help and clearing the way.” He smiled. “I’m supposed to keep you calm.” Dean scooted over, took Sam’s hands down, quickly refolded the blood-wet towel and pushed it back up against him.

Sam choked out a wet cough. Bright red poured down his chin. He jerked forward and clutched Dean’s arm. “Hey, hey Sammy. Come on now, kiddo.” Dean smoothed Sam’s hair away from his eyes. “Don’t...don’t...you know...just don’t.”

Sam squeezed Dean’s forearm until his nails bit through the cloth and dug half-moons into Dean’s skin. Sam turned his head to the left and right, mouth wide open. Dean willed all the air in the Impala to slide down into his brother’s chest. It took several tries for Sam to finally gasp and settle into the seat; all his concentration on taking air in and pushing air out. 

“Keep focusing, man. You’ve got to stay with me here.” Dean said shakily. “And you better listen to me.”

Sam tilted his head up and drew his brows together. 

“Because I’m the oldest.” Dean wiped Sam’s chin and neck with his shirtsleeve. “And I’ll kick your ass if you don’t.”

Blood began bubbling out of Sam’s mouth and he arched back. Dean put his arm around Sam’s shoulders and leaned him down and forward coaxing a few wisps of air into Sam’s lungs. Dean continued to hold him, rubbing his back, speaking softly. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just hang in there. It’ll be okay. Easy, man. Please, take it easy.” until he finally felt him relax. Sam blinked his red-rimmed eyes, looked up and blinked again.

Dean shook his head and said calmly, “No, Sam. We’re not having this conversation.”

Sam shrugged one shoulder.

“Why do you always get like this? You’ll be fine. The ambulance will be here in a couple of minutes. Jesus.” 

Sam’s chest rattled with effort. After a couple of flimsy breaths, Sam peered up at Dean through his sweaty bangs. 

Dean looked into his brother’s eyes and felt his own blood freeze up. He paused a moment to make sure his voice was steady. “You are?” 

Sam nodded once.

“Well don’t be.” Dean swallowed and turned away. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. You’re gonna be fine.”

Sam nudged him with his elbow.

“Yes. Really. See this?” Dean held out his hand and displayed it palm down. “Steady as a rock.” 

Sam wheezed and coughed again. This time Dean didn’t feel his brother’s chest rise. Sam’s eyes went wild and his hands went to his throat, panic jack-knifed him off the seat. Sam's body slammed against the car door as he struggled for breath. Dean grabbed him, sat him up, threw his arms around him and squeezed. Sam’s eyes lanced into Dean’s and then he clamped them shut. 

“Breathe with me.” Dean exaggerated an inhale while decreasing the pressure on Sam’s chest. “Come on, little brother, open your eyes and breathe with me.” Dean breathed out, squeezing tight as he blew his breath into Sam’s face. “Breathe with me! I mean it!” he ordered.

Dean repeated the process: press, release, shout at Sam, press release, shout. Dean got dizzy, his lungs working overtime trying to take in enough air for the both of them. “In and out, man. Come on, come on, come on.” Sam’s hands were fisted and his feet pushed into the floorboard, but he mimicked Dean’s breathing as best he could. 

Finally a sip of air passed through Sam’s lips. Dean hugged tight again, and Sam groaned painfully. When Dean let up, a gulp of air made its way down. “Keep going, Sammy.” Sam finally opened his eyes. “Take one more breath.” Another whisper of air, and then another made its way down. 

“Keep on breathing, man.” He turned Sam so they were eye to eye. “And don’t stop.” 

Sam obeyed. Dean put his arm around Sam’s shoulder and his hand against his brother’s chest, feeling Sam’s heart beating way too fast under the skin.

Sam settled his forehead against Dean’s shoulder shuddering as he gasped. His eyes were watery and tears leaked over his lashes.

“Easy there, bro’. It won’t be much longer, they’re almost here.”

Sam’s lids fluttered and his lips were tinged blue. He bumped his head against Dean’s shoulder and glanced up. 

Dean looked into Sam’s face. He rubbed Sam’s shoulder and said, “I know it sucks. I’m sorry.”

Sam held Dean’s eye, licked his bloody lips and tipped his chin up.

“No you’re not, Sammy. No. You’re. Not. Sam? Sam, listen. I hear the sirens. They’re coming so hang in there with me. Right around the corner, I swear.”

Sam closed his eyes. Dean could feel his brother’s chest heaving, and heard terrible wheezing crackles. Dean held his trembling arms around his brother, ready to squeeze the air into him if he had to. Sam cracked an eye open. He looked at Dean and didn't turn away.

Dean’s chest ached either in empathy or with the intensity in Sam’s gaze. Dean cleared his throat and brushed his thumb along Sam’s damp cheek. “Yeah, me too,” he whispered. “But you’re not five anymore, so quit saying stuff like that.” 

The ambulance pulled up next to the Impala. The sheen of sweat coating Sam’s skin caused his face to flash red. He lifted his head a fraction, and gave Dean a half smile. 

Dean nodded. 

When the emergency crew reached in and Dean’s arms slipped away from Sam’s shoulders, Dean bit his lip and held his breath. Sam tilted his head up and shot him a lazy wink.

Dean smiled. Sam always had to have the last word.

—End—

**Author's Note:**

> More on the Piasa Bird (pn. Pee-a-saw) [Piasa Bird](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piasa/)


End file.
